


Catch Me If You Can

by whenshewrites



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beta Derek Hale, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Crack, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Get Together, Humor, Hurt!Sheriff Stilinski, Idiots in Love, Kidnapping, Laura Hale is alive, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rich Derek Hale, Road Trips, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Thief Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23697754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: Stiles is a thief who messed with the wrong werewolf, Derek is the werewolf who fell for the wrong thief, and unwilling shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 34
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

The thing is, Derek didn’t do parties. He didn’t. 

But then Laura helped him set everything up (“it’s got to be a masquerade party, Der, those are the best kind”) and insisted he come not just for her, but for _charity,_ and what kind of person would say no to charity? Derek wasn’t a terrible person. Sure, he didn’t like people or crowds, but he could suck it up for a few hours. A masquerade party couldn’t be that bad.

It was that bad.

Derek had gone through four glasses of champagne, even though he couldn’t get drunk, and it had only been an hour. He didn’t think he’d make it through the rest of the night. Not without clawing his eyes out.

Growling, he finished his fifth glass and started to search for another waiter. Only, Derek didn’t make it three feet before a tall, lithe figure was running into his chest and champagne was spilling down the front of his suit. Derek snarled, stumbling backward, and the offender gasped, pinwheeling back too.

“Oh my god, _oh my god,_ I’m so sorry! I smelled fancy cheese and wasn’t looking where I was going, and oh my god, you’re the sponsor of this party thing. I’m so dead.”

Derek looked up— and froze. 

The guy before him was startlingly pale, with moles dotting his skin and a fitted black suit that outlined his entire frame. He wore a mask the color of rust, with eyes slitted like a fox’s and a nose curled out around his cheekbones. His scent flooded Derek’s nose; like that of autumn and vanilla, with an addition of nervousness. The guy was unfairly attractive and Derek was at a loss for words.

“I’d totally offer to pay for your suit, but I think that’d have me out on streets,” the guy said, grabbing a napkin from a passing waiter and stepping forward. He dabbed at Derek’s chest nervously, even though that didn’t do much. Derek continued to stare as the amber eyes peered carefully up. “I’m Stiles, by the way, if you want to press charges or something. I don’t know what rich people do when less rich people spill alcohol on them.”

“I’m not going to press charges,” Derek said, startling himself. Stiles looked relieved, stepping back with his napkins. His scent turned less sour and more warm. 

“Thank god, really? I guess I owe you then, dude. I mean— Derek, Derek Hale, right? Can I call you Derek? Or Hale? Mr. Hale?”

“Mr. Hale was my father,” Derek said, surprisingly himself again. Stiles looked startled, then barked a laugh, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I’d be uncomfortable if someone called me Mr. Stilinksi too, which is my last name, by the way. And yes, I do know how unfortunate Stiles Stilinski is, though my first name is something far more horrendous.”

Derek smiled slightly, which made Stiles’ grin stretch even wider. He glanced around, then leaned in mysteriously, warm breaths making Derek’s skin tingle. 

“I wasn’t even invited to this party, by the way. Totally snuck in with my friend, Scott. Though he abandoned ship the moment his girlfriend texted, which I’m kinda used to that at this point. It’s his loss anyway, the food here is great. Way better than the frozen pizzas we keep in the fridge.”

“You’re here alone?” Derek asked. Stiles looked surprised for a moment, before grinning, a small glint taking to his eyes. He licked his lips and shrugged.

“At the moment, yes.”

“So, you’re not waiting for anyone?”

“I could be,” Stiles said, his auburn eyes flaring behind the mask again. Derek was surprised to feel shivers at the expression, watching Stiles lick his lips again. “If I was waiting for the right guy, that is.”

Derek’s throat went dry. Because yeah, this wasn’t the first time he’d been hit on, but Stiles’s flirting was doing something to him that others usually didn’t. Derek glanced around the party before making his decision, grabbing Stiles’s hand and pulling him out of the crowded room. Stiles made a noise of excitement as the air went quiet around them, and Derek led him further down the hall. He didn’t even know what he was doing— this wasn’t something he normally did. But dam, this guy was _addicting._

“You’re not wearing a mask,” Stiles said, breathless as they stopped. Derek smirked and shrugged, wanting to reach out and trace the one Stiles wore. But he restrained himself.

“I didn’t want to come to this party in the first place.”

“Dude, really? But it’s been so epic! I swear, I’ve spotted more celebrities tonight than I have in all my dreams. And my dreams have the weirdest minds of their own.”

“It’s nothing new,” Derek said with a shrug. He was well aware of how that sounded, but it was the truth. He was more than used to these types of parties, to the point where they got tiring rather than fun. “The people are always the same, the conversation is always boring. Not to mention the crowds,” he made a face. “They’re the worst.”

“Well, don’t you sound like a people person,” Stiles teased. Derek flushed.

“Not usually, no.”

“But we’re out here alone, away from everyone else, and I’m pretty sure we’ve never met before.” Stiles’s eyes danced. “So either I’m doing something right, or you’ve had too much to drink tonight, Mr. Hale.”

“It’s definitely the first option,” Derek said with a small laugh. Stiles bit his lower lip. 

“Oh? Well, I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”

Derek suddenly felt anxious at the obvious invitation. He leaned back a little and Stiles looked surprised, but Derek quickly covered up the reaction with a smirk. “Have you ever toured around a mansion before?”

“Is that an invitation to stay? Because like I said earlier, I don’t actually have one into this party.”

“It could be,” Derek said, turning away. “If the rest of tonight goes well.”

He heard Stiles’s heart audibly leap and grinned to himself. The guy hurried after him and Derek decided to start upstairs first. He’d never actually done anything like this before. Since the fire, Laura had always been overly protective of their things, and didn’t like people snooping in on their personal lives. Despite the parties, she was a pretty private person. And Derek, well… Derek considered himself to have followed in her footsteps.

“You know,” Stiles said as he looked around. “I’m willing to bet my apartment is smaller than all of your broom closets. Scott and I share, though it’s still pretty small. Thankfully, he spends most his time at Allison’s house. That’s his girlfriend, by the way. He promised to stay at the party with me all tonight, but then Allision called… and one thing led to another.”

“How _did_ you hear about this party?”

Stiles shrugged, though his heartbeat accelerated at the question. Derek thought that was odd, but shrugged it off as nerves. “I know a guy.”

His heartbeat didn’t skip at that. Derek relaxed again. “And sneaking in was really that easy?”

“Oh, don’t bother with your security,” Stiles said with a laugh. “I’m good at stuff like sneaking. Consider it a born skill. Not something they can teach at college.”

Derek shot him a curious glance. But Stiles only grinned and wiggled his fingers, mouthing _‘magic’_ before bursting into laughter. Derek chuckled too, even though that hit a little close to home. Thankfully, they finally came over the last stair of the top floor, and Stiles’ eyes widened as he gazed around. 

“Woah, dude, your house is gigantic.”

Derek shifted, slightly uncomfortable at that. The insurance pull after the fire had been more than enough for him, Laura, Peter, and Cora to live comfortably, but Derek still hated thinking about why; that their entire fortune had been made off their family’s deaths. Because Derek had made a mistake and it’d cost so much more than he was willing to pay.

Stiles seemed to noticed his change of mood, because his amber eyes softened. The guy reached over, fingers ghosting across Derek’s shoulder, and he offered a small smile. “Hey, man, do you want to show me your treasure room? Which better exist, because I’m gonna be super disappointed if the famous Hales don’t have a treasure room.”

They actually did. Though Derek hadn’t gone in there in years and it contained all of his family’s most treasured possessions, not money. Still, Stiles looked hopeful, and Derek felt himself deflating.

“Come on, then. Only this once, though.”

Stiles cheered and followed. Once more, the guy’s heartbeat was excited, and Derek assumed it was because he’d never seen a treasury before. Not like many people had.

The room was just like Derek remembered it. The Triskele symbol on the floor in the middle, dim lights flickering overhead. Derek knew Laura kept the room as clean as possible, so everything was shining. Stiles gravitated over to his mother’s claws first, a sight which struck Derek with a pang. Stiles tilted his head, staring at them.

“Those are neat.”

“I’m not even sure what they’re from,” Derek lied. “Only that they’ve been in the family for years.”

Stiles made a noise of interest, wandering to the copper Triskele next. Derek followed, but didn’t comment on it, and soon Stiles was moving again. They wandered through the entire room, before coming to the last glass compartment. One that held a silver ring, complete with a shining blue gem.

“That was my mother’s,” Derek said. He couldn’t get anything else out, throat too tight. Stiles only nodded, eyes fixed on the piece of jewelry. Then, after a long moment, he tore his gaze away and they left the room together.

“So,” Stiles said, fidgeting with his mask. Derek raised a brow and the guy blushed. “That was neat.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I don’t usually get house tours of all the parties that I break into,” Stiles grinned. “So consider me impressed. And slightly flattered?”

Derek smirked, stepping forward. “You should be.”

Stiles’s heartbeat picked up. Derek traced his fingers over the edges of the mask and just managed to slip it off, when Stiles’s phone was ringing. Stiles pulled back and fished it from his pocket, and Derek tried not to feel too disappointed when he turned away. Stiles narrowed his eyes at the screen, then made a noise in the back of his throat. His scent changed again. 

“Is everything alright?” Derek asked. The guy swung back toward him, eyes panicked, before quickly schooling the expression with a tight, half-smiling one. 

“Yeah, I just—” Stiles’ heart skipped. “I just need to go. Family emergency.”

Derek opened his mouth, but the guy was brushing past him before he could say a word. His scent had definitely changed; it was sour again. But Stiles was gone before Derek could even wonder why.

Derek stood in the empty hall, the faint sound of music making the floor tremble, and tried not to feel too hurt. Stiles’s mask hung loosely in his fingers and Derek rubbed an unconscious thumb over it, staring at the space Stiles had occupied. Something must have come up, he told himself, though that didn’t make the rejection feel any better. He’d heard the lie in Stiles’s heart. Right before he’d gone back to smelling… off.

Shaking his head, Derek started back down the hall. Something must have come up, he repeated again. And maybe, one day, he’d see Stiles again. Whatever his real name even was.

But Derek didn’t feel like returning back to the party. Instead, he spent the rest of the night drinking champagne, looking at the mask in his hands, and wondering. He thought he smelled Stiles’s scent again at one point, but brushed it off. His nose was playing tricks on him.

Derek didn’t hear the treasury door upstairs open again. Or the sound of shattering glass. And before anyone could, the area was empty again.

And down at the party, the music continued to play.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek's not a happy werewolf, Stiles is a terrible criminal, and kidnappings are the result.

The room smelled like Stiles. 

That much was indisputable. Derek wanted to protest it was because they’d been up here earlier, but the stronger scent and smashed display case weren’t doing him any favors. Derek felt his stomach drop when Laura proclaimed it a break-in. It plunged even further when he’d realized his mistake; looking at the fox mask from the previous night and realizing he’d been played a fool.

The thief— no, Stiles— had taken his mother’s ring. He’d been in and out before any of them could pick up his scent and other than the broken glass, there was no sign that the guy had ever even been there. He’d all but vanished. Laura was outraged.

“I’m calling the cops,” she said, but Derek caught her arm before she could stalk out. Hurt had turned into anger in his chest, and he shook his head.

“Let me go after him.”

“The cops will be able to do that just fine.”

“It’s not about the cops,” Derek said, clenching his jaw. “It’s about Stiles. He thinks he can come into a house full of werewolves and get away with stealing from us, and I’m going to show him just how wrong he is. I’m going to get our mother’s ring back, Laura.”

“Der,” Laura said, her voice softening considerably. “This isn’t a repeat of…”  _ Kate.  _ “Of anyone else.”

“Except that’s exactly what it is,” Derek gritted out. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. He’d fallen head over heels for Stiles’s ringing laugh and amber eyes, and let himself show the thief through their home. “Laura, there’s no evidence against the kid other than his scent. And do you really think that’s going to go over well with the police?”

Laura’s face tightened. She looked toward the shattered display case and her expression turned to one of devastation. Derek ground his teeth at the look. Stiles had caused that. Stiles had caused that and the kid was going to regret ever crossing him.

“Call Cora,” he said. “Tell her everything’s fine. I don’t want her cutting off her studies just because of this. I’m going to find Stiles, I promise.”

Hesitantly, Laura nodded. Derek left the room seething, and grabbed the fox mask before he headed out. Stiles Stilinski— the kid was an idiot and clearly arrogant if he thought he could throw his identity around without getting caught. Now Derek had the upper hand. He knew exactly who he was searching for and the guy couldn’t be too hard to track down. Even if Derek sucked at the internet.

Turns out, Stiles wasn’t even  _ trying  _ to hide.

Derek’s quick search revealed he was the kid of the local Sheriff, who’d recently been relieved of his duties due to health issues. Stiles had lived in Beacon Hills his entire life and amidst his research, Derek found reports of a thief named ‘the Fox’ who’d been stealing from the wealthy for going on a year now. He rubbed a thumb the mask on the seat next to him and scowled, remembering how plaintively Stiles had worn it the other night. The guy had to be an idiot. A pale, loud-mouthed, unfairly attractive idiot.

Derek found his address easily and was outside the apartment in fifteen minutes, knocking angrily on the door.

“Scotty, I told you—” Stiles opened the door and broke off when he saw Derek. The guy looked different in jeans and a plaid t-shirt; a little more innocent, a little less seductive. Stiles quickly replaced his shocked look with a grin and laughed nervously. “Oh, Derek! This is unexpected.”

“Is it?” Derek said, stepping into the apartment. “Would that be because you never get caught or because you thought I was an idiot?”

“Um,” Stiles stumbled back, putting some space between them. He tried to look confused, but Derek could hear his heart was pounding and panic wafted off of him in waves. “Come again, big guy? I don’t think we’re on the same page here.”

“There was a break-in last night,” Derek said, and Stiles’s heart stuttered. “My sister wanted to call the cops, but I convinced her to let me chase down the thief and give him a chance to return what he stole. Because I’m don’t think either of us want the authorities involved.”

“Is this a hint of some kind?” Stiles asked, still going for confused. “Because I’m pretty sure you need some actual evidence to arrest a guy. And I wasn’t under the impression you were a cop.”

“I know it was you, Stiles,” Derek said, forcing himself to keep his fangs from dropping down. “I know you’re the one who stole my mother’s ring.”

“Do you now, big guy? Cause my roommate can attest that I was home all of last night after the party and definitely didn’t anywhere else. In fact, we had a Marvel movie marathon until he had to leave for work this morning. He’s a vet, you know, in the place of Alan Deaton. Any chance you know that guy? He’s quiet, kind of puzzling, and can never give you a straight answer. I’ll have you know, he once—”

“Stiles,” Derek growled, cutting his rambling off. “I know it was you.”

“Still waiting on the evidence,” Stiles said, crossing his arms. Derek snarled at the back of his throat and realized this wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe if he could scare the guy into confessing...

“I can hear you lying,” Derek said, anger overtaking common sense. Stiles’s eyes widened— in what should have been disbelief— but was shock instead. Shock, realization, and then panic. Stiles stumbled back, his scent turning sour.

“Oh my god, you’re a werewolf.”

Derek froze. “What?” That shouldn’t have been the first thing Stiles jumped to. That shouldn’t even be something he jumped to, unless— “You know about us?”

“Um,” Stiles laughed weakly, hand slipping into his pocket. “Shit.”

Before Derek could react, something black was flung into his eyes. He roared and stumbled back, and Stiles raced for the window. Derek heard the sound of it snapping open and lunged out blindly, tripping over the coffee table and stumbling hard to the ground. “Stiles!”

“Sorry, big guy, don’t take this personally!”

Derek clawed himself up, managing a step forward, onto to go stumbling back down as his feet tangled in a blanket. Stiles’s hysterical laugh was cut off as the window slammed shut.

And just like that, the Fox was on the run.

* * *

Stiles was an idiot. He was an absolute idiot _. _

He was going to have to change his name. He was going to have to flee the town, the state, the  _ country _ . Stiles had been so careful these past few months and the one night he let himself have a little fun, it blew up in his face. Of course, it did. Because Stiles was an idiot _. _

_ Oh my god,  _ he thought. What if the Hales went after his dad? Went after Scott? No, Scott could handle himself. Scott was a True Alpha. But his dad was vulnerable. His dad was the entire reason Stiles was doing this and if he got hurt, Stiles might as well surrender to Derek himself.

Because the Hales were werewolves. Of all the things Stiles had ever imagined, them being wolves was the last one. And it was just his luck he’d chosen to steal from their fortune.

“Oh my god, I’m so dead,” Stiles said, pressing the gas pedal harder. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t go back. Shit, what if he could never go back? His dad was back at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, and Stiles was leaving him alone.

But Derek was on his tail. If Stiles fled, hopefully Derek would follow. He could call Scott later and make sure his friend kept an eye on his dad. Until Stiles figured things out, that was.

Stiles didn’t know anything about living on the run. 

Did he buy a burner phone, or a fake ID? Did he dye his hair black and start wearing glasses? Fuck, he was going to be such a terrible criminal. No, actually, he was already a terrible criminal. Stiles knew how to steal things. But he didn’t know how to avoid being werewolf chow. 

“Oh my god,” Stiles said again. “I should’ve just been a stripper.”

He pressed the gas pedal harder and drove.

Stiles didn’t know how far he got. Only that around hour nine, Roscoe began making strange noises, and Stiles realized he should’ve picked a better get-away car. Sighing, he pulled over at a rundown motel, and took the chance to finally call Scott.

“Dude?”

“Scotty, I need your help.”

“What?” Stiles heard Scott sit up, along with the faint sounds of Allison’s voice. “Stiles, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Not exactly,” Stiles said. He didn’t know how to explain this to his best friend. How did one say  _ ‘hey, I’ve been stealing from rich assholes in order to pay for my dad’s medical bills. Surprise!’  _ Stiles shook his head and swallowed. “It’s a unique situation that I really should’ve been expecting, but didn’t. So I’ll be out of town for the next few days.” Or forever. Stiles didn’t mention that.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Keep an eye on my dad,” Stiles said, his throat tightening. “Make sure he’s safe.”

“Stiles?” Scott sounded concerned, then. “Is something wrong?”

“Not currently.”

Scott was silent for a long moment. Then his voice came back through, faint and hesitant. “You’ll call me if something does go wrong though, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Stiles lied. He was glad Scott couldn’t hear his heartbeat through the phone. “Just keep an eye on my dad, okay? I’ll be back in a few days.”

“Okay,” Scott said softly. Stiles clenched his jaw and hung up.

He wondered if this would be the rest of his life. Crashing at crappy motels and freaking Scott out over the phone. That would really suck, because Stiles hadn’t planned for any of this. He only had the clothes on his back, a couple hundred dollars in his wallet, and a few granola bars in the back of his car.

Stiles dug around in his pocket and pulled out a silver ring. The moment he’d seen it at Derek’s, he’d known it would pay for at least half of his dad’s surgery. The opportunity had been too good to pass up and Stiles was nothing if not determined. Though, that had started this entire mess. He sighed and slipped the ring back into his pocket. 

He was a complete idiot.

The motel room was a ratty as Stiles had imagined. He wandered around the motel perimeter, setting up a few wards and thanking his past self for stocking Roscoe full of emergency supplies. Stiles didn’t expect to get a good night’s sleep tonight, but he at least felt slightly safer.

Surprisingly, though, he managed to fall asleep for three solid hours. Then, his wards were crossed.

Stiles snapped awake at the first feeling and stumbled out of bed. He lined his door with mountain ash and raced toward the window. It wasn’t very big— but it’d have to be big enough. He could squeeze through anything. He could get through this.

He couldn’t.

The moment Stiles felt his hips snag, he choked. He wriggled and cursed, but the window was too small. Instead, he tried to backtrack, but he was already stuck. His heart leaped into his throat when he heard the sound of his door opening, and Derek snarled as he tried to cross the mountain ash line. Stiles panicked and squirmed even harder. He heard Derek go still.

“Stiles?”

“Um,” Stiles tried to turn his head with no avail. “Hey, Sourwolf.”

“Are you stuck in the window?”

“What? No!” Stiles wiggled again. “I’m just resting!”

He could feel Derek staring. Then, the werewolf was gone, and Stiles renewed his struggles. In a matter of seconds, Derek came into view outside and Stiles was still stuck. He wiggled harder, but that didn’t do anything except get him trapped even more. 

Derek stopped in front of him, one brow raised. “You’re stuck in the window.”

“I am not.”

“You’re a terrible criminal.”

Stiles scowled. “Did you come out here to mock me?”

“No, I came to get my mother’s ring. Do you have it on you?”

Stiles hesitated, knowing Derek could hear his lies. He struggled a little bit more, then sighed, going limp. “Yes, but it’s in my jean’s pocket. You’re not getting in there unless I get free.”

“I’m sure I could try.”

“Um, no way!” Stiles squawked. “That’s a serious invasion of privacy, dude. Trust me when I say this ring is firmly wedged in between places you don’t want to touch and I will fight back if you even try.”

Derek’s face turned red. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. So don’t go getting handsy, Sourwolf. Just… get me out of here, would you?”

“Only if you agree to come back to Beacon Hills quietly.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “I know your not a cop, but you’re literally pulling their lines out of your ass. Yeah, sure dude, I’ll come happily along. Just get me out!”

Derek narrowed his eyes, but he must have listened to Stiles’s heartbeat, because he took Stiles’s outstretched hands. Stiles couldn’t hold in a yelp as he tugged. 

“Ow, dude, that hurts! That hurts!”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Not mine! Pull gently, asshole, I’m just a delicate human!”

Derek growled, but tugged a little gentler. Stiles whined and squirmed until he came free with a  _ pop.  _ He flew forward and both he and Derek went sprawling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Derek grunted, freezing underneath his body, and Stiles gasped for breath.

“Oh my god, that was painful.”

“Get off of me,” Derek said, eyes flashing blue. Stiles startled and scrambled off of the werewolf. He tried to make a run for it, but didn’t get five feet before Derek caught his wrist. The man’s grip was unforgiving. Stiles yelped.

“Weak bones, dude weak bones!”

“We made a deal,” Derek snarled. “You’re coming with me.”

“But what about my room? My car? My stuff!”

“You had time to grab stuff?”

“Well, no,” Stiles said, still trying to wrestle free. “But I am not leaving Roscoe here. He didn’t do anything wrong, he doesn’t deserve to be abandoned.”

“Roscoe?”

“My jeep, asshole,” Stiles said, jerking his head toward the parking lot. Derek followed his gaze and wrinkled his nose at the blue jeep parked a little ways away.

“That’s not a car, that’s a piece of junk.”

“Hey!” Stiles finally managed to squirm free, stamping down on Derek’s foot. The werewolf grunted in surprised pain. “You take that back, Roscoe never did anything to you!”

Derek caught him by the wrist again, squeezing dangerously tight. Stiles stopped struggling when his bones creaked. He froze at the blue color of Derek’s eyes. 

“You said you’d come quietly,” Derek said in a threatening tone. “Now either you do as you said and I’ll call a tow truck, or keep fighting I’ll drag you to my car and leave your pathetic little jeep here for someone to steal.”

“Now that’s just rude,” Stiles said. But he stopped struggling. “Also, I’m pretty sure what you just described is kidnapping. Which is illegal.”

“You stole from me. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal too.”

“Can’t prove it,” Stiles singsonged. 

Derek only rolled his eyes. Before Stiles could react, the werewolf pulled him into his chest and reached into his side pocket, pulling out the stolen ring. Stiles squawked in protest.

“Dude, bad touch!”

Smirking, Derek held up the ring between his fingers. “You were saying?”

“Currently?” Stiles grinned at him. “Now that’s got your fingerprints all over it. So technically, big guy, I’m no longer a suspect.”

Derek growled and started dragging him toward the other side of the parking lot. Stiles panicked and starting struggling again, but Derek paid him no attention. “It’s not police custody you’re facing,” he said. “My sister would like to have a talk with you.”

_ Shit. _

Stiles renewed his efforts. This was it, the Hales were going to eat him. He didn’t even know if werewolves ate people— Scott never answered when he’d asked— but Stiles wouldn’t put it past Derek to go feral over a little thievery. He’d gone this far, after all.

“No, dude, I’m sorry! I won’t steal from you ever again, I swear. I’ll even write a formal apology!”

Derek growled and clamped a hand over Stiles’ mouth. Stiles panicked even more, but couldn’t break away as Derek opened the passenger door and shoved him in, closing it hard. The lock clicked and Stiles lunged for the driver’s side, but Derek was there in a flash, fangs out. He smirked as Stiles cowered back.

“Dude!”

“Don’t call me dude.”

“Then let me go!”

Derek ignored him, starting the car. Stiels considered screaming at the top of his lungs, but he’d already made a commotion. If no had come then, no one was coming now. In defeat, he slumped down. Derek cast him a sideways glance. “Seatbelt.”

“Screw you.”

“It your funeral if we crash.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned away, moving as far as he could to the edge of the seat. He’d chose crashing over being werewolf chow. Which he was totally going to be.  _ Oh god,  _ Stiles totally going to get eaten.

He was such an idiot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is desperate, Derek is irritated, and the Camaro is collateral damage.

Stiles had a plan.

Okay, actually he didn’t, but he wasn’t going back to Beacon Hills. He had nine hours to figure something out and by god was Stiles was going to figure _something_ out.

He wasn’t going to be werewolf chow.

Everytime Stiles shifted uncomfortably, Derek shot him an irritated glare. Stiles smirked back and made more movements to wiggle around, cursing under his breath as he tried to find a good spot. They’d only been driving for an hour but the silence and the confinement and the stifling heat of the car was driving Stiles mad. He was going to hyperventilate.

“Stop squirming,” Derek growled when Stiles moved again. Stiles shot him an irritated look.

“I’m trying to get comfortable, fur face.”

“Just sit still.”

“You know, you could just put me on the phone with your sister and we could have our conversation that way. Then you could drop me off somewhere— I’m not really picky as long as it’s not the desert— and we’d never have to see each other again.”

“Right,” Derek said, not looking at him. “Let’s do that.”

“Dude, seriously?”

“No.”

Stiles scrunched up his face and glared at the werewolf. Derek didn’t even give him a second glance. Sighing heavily, Stiles slumped back and his foot bumped against something on the floor, making him start. Leaning down, he realized it was a rust-colored fox mask; the very same one he’d left it at the party. Stiles sat back up and stared at it, then looked at Derek. 

The man glanced over, tensed up, and fixed his gaze back on the road. His ears were tipped pink. Stiles stared.

“Oh my god. You actually like me.”

“What.”

“Dude, you’re totally smitten! Oh my god, is it my air of danger? My involvement in crime? Am I a bad boy in your little werewolf kink book? Dude!”

Derek gave him an incredulous look. “It has your scent on it.”

“Wait, you were  _ smelling it?” _

“Idiot,” Derek said, rolling his eyes. “Your scent is how I’ve been tracking you down. It’s easier to have something from the source.”

“I’m going to give you a few moments to process how that sounds.”

Derek’s expression did a few things and he settled with a glower, hands turning white around the steering wheel. Stiles smirked, looking at the mask again, and then realized maybe things weren’t so hopeless. Maybe he could turn this situation in his favor after all.

“So, Sourwolf,” Stiles said casually. “Our night did get cut off kind of abruptly the other day.”

“Because you were planning on robbing me.”

Stiles winced. “To be fair, I didn’t go into your house planning on doing anything um... illegal? I was just gonna scout some things out. Dude, you had like, half of Beacon Hill’s biggest and richest faces there. That creep Deucalion was there. Do you know how much his net worth is?”

“Should you really be telling me these things?” Derek asked. Though for some reason, Stiles’s confession did something strange in his chest. He wasn’t deliberately sought out as a pawn. Not in the beginning, at least.

“I mean,” Stiles said. “I’m gonna be eaten alive by werewolves anyway. What’s the big deal?”

“We don’t eat people.”

“Oh my god, is it gonna be worse?” Stiles asked, paling. “Are you gonna go all mafia on me and no one will ever find my body?”

Derek turned to stare at him. The incredulous expression on the werewolf’s face made Stiles wonder if he was reading into things a little too much, but he didn't know  _ what  _ to expect. And Derek wasn’t denying that accusation, only sighing heavily before turning his gaze back toward the road. Stiles swallowed.

He was gonna die. He was so gonna die.

They drove past a lone McDonalds in the middle of nowhere and Stiles suddenly squawked, all thoughts of death leaping from his mind. He swiveled in his seat and Derek startled, the car swerving across the road for a second. Stiles squeaked again, more terrified this time, and Derek cursed, straightening the car back out.  _ “Stiles!’ _

“Dude, watch the road!”

“Me? Stiles, what the hell was that?”

“A McDonalds!”

Derek looked at him, eyes wide. “What?”

“We just passed a McDonalds, Derek! Fries, dude, fries!”

“This is not a road trip, Stiles!” Derek snarled, his eyes flashing blue for a second. Stiles shrunk back in his seat and Derek swore, focusing on the road again. “We are not turning around for fries.”

“What about chocolate milkshakes?”

“Shut up and sit still,” Derek growled. “Or I’ll stop to buy duct tape and throw you gagged into the trunk instead.”

Stiles glared at the werewolf, his fear dissipating. Why the hell had he chosen to steal from this grumpy furball? Stiles was pissed at his past self. Yeah, maybe he’d had a little too much to drink, had been on a small adrenaline high, and decided to test his luck against a new opponent, but goddammit, he was an idiot. He should’ve just eaten all the Hale’s expensive food and gone home to sleep it off like he’d planned.

Stiles’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten all day.

“Are we going to drive all night?” Stiles asked, crossing his arms and slumping back. “Cause I’m tired.”

“Then go to sleep.”

“Do you know how rude it is for the person in the passenger seat to fall asleep while the driver is awake? Basic social etiquette, Sourwolf, I do have it.”

“You stole from me,” Derek deadpanned. “After an attempt at seduction.”

“An attempt? Uh, you were there, dude, and that is clearly the wrong word choice.”

“Stop calling me dude.”

“Okay then, Wolfman. Sourpuss? Oh! The big bad wolf.”

Derek glowered and Stiles grinned. Maybe if he annoyed Derek enough, the werewolf would just give up on this whole kidnapping-slash-roadtrip-slash-hijacking thing and dump him somewhere. Stiles could be pretty annoying when he wanted to. He had that from reliable sources.

“I need to pee,” Stiles said. That should be a good start.

“Too bad.”

“Seriously, Sourpuss, I need to pee.”

“Guess you should've thought about that back at the motel,” Derek said, sounding utterly unconcerned. Stiles narrowed his eyes.

“I was a little busy getting stuck in a window.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Okay, Derek,” Stiles said grumpily. “Do we really need to talk about what happens when someone is denied the right to a bathroom? Because it won’t end well for your precious Camaro.”

Derek turned bright blue eyes toward him. Stiles’s heart stuttered for a second, but he forced himself to shrug.

“We could’ve had a bathroom break back at the McDonalds.”

“I am  _ not  _ taking you to a McDonalds.”

“A Wendy’s then, I’m not picky. Oh! Or a Chick-fil-a! Ah, wait no, fuck, it’s a Sunday.”

Derek growled, gripping the wheel so tight Stiles thought he might rip it off for a second. And would that be unfortunate for all car passengers that weren’t werewolves. Which was him. Derek could probably survive a car crash, but Stiles was a delicate human.

“Derek,” he whined. “I really need to pee. Do you know how many energy drinks I’m running off of right now?”

“That’s not my problem.”

“It is too! Red bull is a staple for going on the run, I had to dedicate to the part!”

Derek suddenly snarled.  _ Out loud.  _ Before Stiles could freak out, he was pulling off to the side of the dark road and into the parking lot of the nearest rest stop, slamming the car into park so hard Stiles jerked forward. He yelped and hit chest-first into the dashboard, the breath punched from his lungs. 

“Ouch, asshole! What the hell?”

“Get out,” Derek growled. Stiles stared in shock.

“Are you letting me go?”

“Get out,” Derek repeated, his fangs out now and claws forming where his fingernails should be. Stiles’s heart leaped into his throat and he paled.

“Are you going to  _ kill  _ me?”

Derek growled and climbed out of the car, slamming the door as he moved around the front. Stiles squeaked, scrambling back in his seat as Derek yanked the passenger door open, catching his arm and yanking him out. Stiles stumbled, tripping over his own feet, and nearly face planted on the ground. But Derek held on tight, lugging him across the parking lot.

“Derek! Derek, please don’t kill me, I actually really want to live!”

“You idiot,” Derek growled, and Stiles realized suddenly that he was dragging him  _ toward  _ the rest stop gas station and not some dark ditch where nobody would hear Stiles get murdered. He stopped fighting and let himself be dragged along, still fumbling to get his feet underneath him.

Suddenly, his prospects of escaping seemed much higher. If he could just convince someone in the station that he was in trouble—

“You try one thing,” Derek said as they neared the door. “And I’ll rip your throat out.”

Well, there went that.

“You’re such a Sourpuss,” Stiles said, yanking away. He shouldered into the gas station and ignored the look they got from the guy behind the front counter, starting toward the restroom sign. A glance over his shoulder showed Derek with his arms crossed, gazing around the store like he wanted to punch something.

Stiles shoved into the restroom. And froze.

There was a  _ window. _

Okay, so his last window escape attempt hadn’t gone well. But Stiles took one look at this one and was sure he could get out of it. Yeah, sure, it was a little high up, but he was skilled. Stiles moved forward and climbed up on one of the sinks, managing to wedge the window open. It was covered in grime. But Stiles knew he could fit. He could.

Stiles had luck for the first time that night.

He also fell face-first to the ground.

But he was free and he was outside, and Stiles didn’t wait two second before he was up and running. The Camaro was still and silent in the empty parking lot and Stiles  _ knew  _ Derek had the keys, but he also knew how to hotwire a car. It was one of his more random skills that hadn't been important until now.

Stiles worked fast. 

His fingers were trembling and he kept messing up, but he was doing his best. Stiles cursed. Then blinked. Glaring at the wires, he shoved them together and grinned when sparks came flying from the tips of his fingers. The Camaro roared to life.

And something else roared.

Stiles yelped as the driver’s door was yanked open and a clawed hand caught him by the arm, yanking him out. Stiles went sprawling to the parking lot and pain lanced up his body as he landed, rubber asphalt beneath his hands. Derek stood over him, eyes glowing.

“Stiles, dammit!”

“Wait, Derek, I can explain!”

Derek glowered down at him. Stiles scrunched up his nose, thinking for a second. Then he winced.

“Actually, I’ve got nothing.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Derek snarled, starting toward him. Stiles panicked and tried to scramble back, but he didn’t get far before losing his balance again, hands in flying up in front of his face as Derek towered over him. 

“Wait, no, no, no killing the fragile human! I haven’t peed yet!”

“Get in the car,” Derek said, hauling him up. Stiles stumbled and ripped away, but Derek herded him back toward the Camaro. Stiles’s heart was in his throat.

“Dude, seriously, I still haven’t peed! I made a rash decision, we can both agree to that, but my bladder is still full! That’s a danger to the Camaro!”

“Get in,” Derek gritted out, clearly not caring anymore. Stiles’s back rammed against the front of the car. It was still alive and rumbling faintly, the hood warm to touch. Stiles raised himself up, glaring.

“No!”

“Stiles, I swear to god—”

Letting out a battle cry, Stiles launched himself forward. He didn’t even know what he was doing, but Derek was too surprised to do anything other than stumble back, making both of them nearly lose their balance. The werewolf growled and tried to grab Stiles’s arm but he wriggled away, snatching the keys from Derek’s hand and reeling back, launching them as hard as he could across the parking lot. He heard a faint clatter and grinned triumphantly, turning back on his heel. Only to freeze.

Derek looked murderous.

“Um,” Stiles said, swallowing. “Dude, your keys.”

“Good job, Stiles,” Derek snarled, starting around him. “You’re a mastermind, throwing the one thing that could’ve helped you escape halfway across the parking—”

Stiles scrambled toward the open driver’s seat of the Camaro. He dove in and slammed the door closed, shoving the gearshift into drive. The headlights flashed on and Stiles caught sight of Derek’s startled, staring gaze, before he was hitting the gas and shooting forward. Right toward the werewolf, who threw himself to the side only a second before Stiles raced past. 

Stiles didn’t even check for approaching cars, as he sped toward the gas station exit. He yanked on the steering wheel and pulled onto the highway, wincing as tires screeched. He didn’t know how fast werewolves could run but he didn’t want to test it out. Traffic laws be damned.

Stiles thought he heard a roar at his back, pressing down hard on the gas. It sounded like his name, but he wasn’t sure. It was probably his name.

Stiles didn’t look back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is pissed, Stiles is kind of an idiot, and someone else comes to play.

Derek was going to kill someone. Preferably Stiles. Especially Stiles. He wanted it to be Stiles.

Except Stiles was _gone._

Derek stood in the empty parking lot for a long moment as his Camaro screeched out of sight and just contemplated life. The only things he had on him were his phone, now useless keys, and wallet, and it was so dark, he wouldn’t be able to see anything if not for his werewolf eyesight. There were no other cars on the highway. 

Derek was literally in the middle of nowhere. Alone.

He stood there for a moment and just stared at nothing, keys dangling in his fingers as the breeze picked up. Five minutes ago, Stiles had been in his grasp, in his car, and everything was _fine,_ and now Derek was abandoned in the middle of nowhere. A low growl escaped from his throat.

Derek was going to kill Stiles.

Digging his phone out of his pocket, he punched in Laura’s number and brought it up to his ear. It rang a few times, went to voicemail, and Derek cursed, calling her again. This time, he got an answer.

“Der, what the hell, it’s two in the morning!”

“Stiles stole my car.”

Silence reigned for a long moment. Then Derek heard what sounded like Laura sitting up. “What?”

“Stiles is driving the Camaro. And he’s gone.”

“Stiles. The Stiles ‘broke-into-our-house-and-stole-our-stuff’, Stiles?”

Derek closed his eyes and sighed heavily, trying to stave off a sudden headache. It was too late for this. He was too tired for this. Derek didn’t deserve all these bad things that kept happening to him. He was a good person, dammit. Most of the time. “Yes, that Stiles.”

“He stole the Camaro? Like, recently?”

 _“Yes,”_ Derek said.

“Damn, Der,” Laura said, but she sounded amused than worried. Which was not okay, because Derek was a victim here, dammit. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be that difficult to take care of?”

“Well, I got mom’s ring back,” Derek said gruffly. “And I had him. We were only like eight hours away.”

“And then he stole the Camaro?”

Derek ground his teeth together. She definitely sounded amused now and Derek didn’t know what to do with that. Other than growl at her. “I need you to come get me.”

“Eight hours away? That’s cute.”

“Laura, I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere without a car. I need you to come get me.”

“You have your phone,” Laura said, snorting. “Call a cab.”

“Laura, I’m _in the middle of nowhere.”_

“Then call an uber.”

“This isn’t funny. Come get me.”

“I’m too tired to be funny, Der,” Laura said. “What are you going to do anyway? Wait eight hours for me to come get you and then hope Stiles’s isn’t halfway across the country? I told you we should’ve called the police.”

“I have the ring now, we have no proof.”

“Derek, honey, he has your car.”

Derek groaned, pressing a hand against his face. Suddenly, he was downright exhausted and everything was just not fair. Stiles was an asshole. Derek was going to kill him. Except Derek couldn’t kill him. So all he could do was groan. “I’m going to find him. I’ll bring him back.”

“Do you have any idea where he’d go next?”

Derek considered this, lowering his hand. Stiles was a terrible criminal, but Derek had no doubts he’d do everything he could to avoid crossing paths again. So, he’d probably ditch the Camaro as soon as possible. _Fuck._ He’d ditch the Camaro for another car. His car. The piece of crap jeep Derek had left back at the motel.

“I have an idea,” Derek said grumpily. “I swear to god, I’m gonna kill him.”

“Try to avoid doing that until we all have a little chat, yeah? I want to meet this boy.”

Derek growled. Laura laughed.

“I’m serious, don’t kill him. Just call me when you catch him again, okay? That way I know things are working out.”

“Fine,” Derek said. Laura chuckled and hung up.

Derek didn’t like it, but he called an uber next. It took the driver a little over an hour to arrive and Derek ignored the judgemental stares. The drive to the motel was silent; Derek had to keep his hands in fists to avoid growling the moment he saw his abandoned Camaro in the parking lot. Like it was the piece of crap, not that blue jeep that Stiles had insisted was so precious.

“Thanks,” Derek said flatly, handing the driver a wad of cash before climbing out. The boy— a college kid, from the looks of it— raised a brow and shrugged. Derek scowled as the guy pulled out of the parking lot and took off back down the highway.

The motel looked more appealing than ever before. Derek was half tempted to rent a room and just sleep the rest of the night away, but he stalked over to the Camaro instead. There wasn’t a bump or scratch on it— a good thing too, because Derek would’ve tracked Stiles down and ripped his throat out, Laura or no. There was also a note left in the driver’s seat. One that made Derek’s fangs drop down when he read it.

_‘Better luck next time, Sourwolf. You’ve got a nice ride, btw. Also, I made sure to pee at the motel out of kindness. You’re welcome.’_

_\- Da Fox_

Derek crumpled up the note and dropped it to the ground. He was going to kill Stiles. Slowly, painfully. He really was.

First though, he had to catch him. Derek gave one last look toward the motel before climbing into the Camaro with a sigh. Stiles was going to regret all of this.

Once Derek caught him, that was.

* * *

It wasn’t that Derek thought Stiles was an idiot. He just, well… he thought Stiles was an idiot. Because less than twelve hours later, after driving straight down a highway that never seemed to end, Derek caught up to Stiles again. He thought he’d be screwed; the Camaro smelled so strongly of Stiles, there was no way Derek was going to be catching an outside scent again.

But then he drove past a Motel 8 on the outskirts of some nameless town and saw a beaten-down blue jeep sitting in the parking lot. Derek couldn’t believe his luck was actually turning up for once.

The kid had to be a little bit of an idiot. Or just really cocky.

Derek didn’t know if Stiles had set up wards this time, or not. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had. So Derek parked on the other side of the street and reclined his seat back to wait— he’d catch Stiles when the idiot decided to show his face outside again.

Derek didn’t mean to fall asleep. But he was so goddamn _tired._ Derek had been going on pure adrenaline and rage for nearing forty-eight hours now. So maybe he fell asleep. Just a little.

It was a sharp knock on his window that woke him up again.

There was an old woman squinting in at him from outside his car and Derek sat up slowly, rolling down the window. He didn’t really know what he expected but a crooked finger jabbing into his face wasn’t it.

“Now, you listen here young man," she said sharply. "There is a perfectly good motel right across the road, so I won’t have any delinquent camping out in front of my restaurant—”

Derek blinked. He hadn’t even realized that was where he'd parked.

“— and if you’re not going to come in and be an actual customer, then you can put it in drive and continue on your way—”

“I’ll go,” Derek said, cutting her off. The old woman squinted.

“Excuse me?”

Derek glanced across the street and spotted Stiles’s jeep still sitting in the parking lot, so he put on a forced smile and turned back toward her. “I’m terribly sorry for taking up space. I’ll go.”

The woman looked at him with narrowed eyes. But after a second, she pulled back her finger and stepped away, and Derek rolled up his window with a sigh. He didn’t know how long Stiles planned on camping out at the motel and Derek figured he might as well just go for it. He’d managed to grab Stiles last time anyway.

The idiot would probably try to sneak out a window again.

Pulling out of the parking lot and driving across the street, Derek parked right next to Stiles’s jeep. He still thought the thing was a piece of junk. Just for good measure, Derek moved around the front of it, popped open the hood, and dug around a little before simply ripping the engine out.

It’d do the job if Stiles did manage to wiggle his way out of a window or something.

Derek had gotten lucky last time. The lady at the front desk had been more than willing to tell him where Stiles’s room was; but the guy at check-in this time didn’t look so impressed. And Derek didn’t have time to figure out his price; if Stiles did have wards set up, he’d be making a run for it by now.

“Can you tell me what room a man named 'Stiles Stilinski' is in? He probably would've just checked in recently.”

“What’s it to you?” The man asked.

“It’s important,” Derek said, restraining himself from flashing his eyes. “He’s a… friend.”

“We don’t give out clientele details,” the man said, shrugging. “Sorry pal.”

Derek stuck his hands in his pockets and glowered. He glanced down the row of rooms and figured he could just wander around until he caught a scent, but that’d take too long. His fingers touched something cold. Unconsciously, Derek pulled his mother’s ring out of his pocket and rubbed it between his fingers, still searching the empty hall.

He noticed the man’s scent change then. Derek glanced back forward to see the man eyeing the ring, a surprisingly soft look on his face.

“Is this ‘Stiles’ your boyfriend?” 

Derek blinked at that. Then he looked down at the ring and stared at it for a moment, before glancing up with a small smile. “I was hoping to surprise him. He’s here on a business trip, but the whole thing was canceled and I couldn’t make myself wait until he got home. Hate being apart, you know?”

“That’s adorable,” the man said. “Been together long?”

“Feels like forever,” Derek said. The man’s eyes crinkled.

“What’s his last name again?”

“Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski.”

“Funny name,” the guy said, typing it into his computer. He scrolled for a second and then grinned, glancing over the counter at Derek. “Yeah, I remember the guy. A little twitchy. Don’t tell anyone I did this, but he's in room 124. And he’s not supposed to check out for another day in case you two want to… celebrate.”

Derek’s stomach did a strange flip. He tried not to think about Stiles and his annoying face and pale, mole dotted skin and amber eyes and… celebrating. _Fuck._ Trying to snap himself out of his thoughts, Derek forced a smile. “Thanks.”

“Good luck!”

Derek hoped luck wouldn’t be something he needed. He moved down the hallway until he came to door number 124— except something was wrong. The door was cracked open and the frame around it was busted. Derek sniffed the air only to reel back as he caught the unmistakable scent of _werewolf._ But not just werewolf.

Alpha.

Derek shoved the door open and burst inside. Only to stumble to a stop.

Stiles pinned to the wall by a woman with blood-red eyes and bare feet. There was a set of claws against his neck and his face was pale, eyes wide, a line of blood running down an open cut across his forehead. There was a bald-headed man standing off to the side, watching, and another man sitting on the edge of the bed. One Derek recognized.

“Deucalion?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is an idiot, Derek tries to help, and the Alphas aren't amused.

Deucalion didn’t even turn around. But Stiles made a squawking noise and the woman holding him snarled, while the bald-headed man tensed up, eyes locked on Derek. Still not turning, Deucalion waved a careless hand through the air.

“I knew I smelled another werewolf on the boy. Come in, Derek, we’ve only just started.”

Stiles’s eyes were wide and panicked, and Derek slowly stepped into the room. He recognized the other two Alpha werewolves; they were part of Deucalion's pack. Ennis and Kali, two werewolves Derek could have done his entire life without meeting.

He’d heard stories of how they’d gotten here Alpha power. And they weren’t comforting ones.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re just having a little chat with young Stiles here,” Deucalion said, turning to gaze at him. There were a pair of shades covering his eyes but Derek knew what they hid. He clenched his jaw and didn’t let himself look at where Stiles was pinned.

The boy’s heartbeats were like a rabbit’s in how fast they pounded. Derek could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air and it made his skin crawl. “What did he do wrong?”

“The same thing I imagine he did to you,” Deucalion said, turning back to face Stiles. “I happen to be missing a few funds, aren’t I, Stiles?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles said, his heartbeat skipping audibly. Kali tightened her grip and Stiles yelped, a line of red running down his neck. Derek clenched his jaw.

“You know,” Deucalion said. “I’d be more than happy to let it slip. But I have a reputation to uphold, as I’m sure you understand. All I want is my money back, Stiles.”

“Can’t do that,” Stiles said, a slight gasp to his voice. This time, there was no skip in his heart. “It’s already gone.”

Deucalion tensed a little. Stiles laughed, in spite of the claws around his neck and the sound of Kali’s low growl. Derek could have facepalmed at the idiot’s recklessness.

“He was at my family’s mansion the night before he left Beacon,” Derek said, stepping forward. “He couldn’t have done anything.”

“Oh, but that’s not the only place Stiles went that night, is it?” Deucalion said, a smirk playing along the edges of his lips. Derek looked at Stiles and the boy’s face said everything. Derek closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, and tried not to react. 

“How much did he take?”

“I’m not sure, was it ten thousand, Stiles? Or twenty?”

_ Idiot. _

Derek didn’t know what kind of rush Stiles got out of robbing Beacon Hill’s wealthy, but he had no idea how the boy had survived this long. He seemed to be terrible at his job. Stiles’s face was pale and his chest was rising and falling in fast heaves. Deucalion pushed himself up and crossed the room, catching Stiles by the chin and turning his face from side to side.

“I suppose there are ways to get you to talk. Where is my money, Stiles?”

“I don’t have it,” Stiles said, amber eyes flashing. “It’s all gone to a good cause and I swear to god, I won’t tell you what that is.”

“Feisty,” Deucalion said with a chuckle. “But everyone has a breaking point.”

“You can’t be talking about torturing him,” Derek said, and every eye snapped to where he stood. Stiles too, looking surprised, and Derek was a little hurt that the idiot would think he would actually hurt him. Sure, Derek had made threats, but that’s all they were. Threats.

This was the real thing. And Derek didn’t know if he could get them out of it.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Deucalion said. “He took things that belonged to me so I’m sure if I took a finger or a hand, that would just be returning the favor.”

“Just turn him into the police,” Derek said. “Let them deal with him.”

“Oh, but then how would I get my money?”

Stiles flinched as Deucalion turned back toward him. His heartbeats picked up in speed again and Derek ground his teeth together, head spinning. His claws had started to come out involuntarily, but he knew he was no match for a bunch of Alphas. Especially not with one holding her claws to Stiles’s throat.

“I was chasing after him first,” Derek said, stepping forward. “I get the first few questions.”

Ennis growled lowly, but Deucalion only gave an amused look. And, to Derek’s surprise, he stepped aside. Stiles’s eyes were wide with terror and Derek shot Kali a dark look, who let go of the boy’s neck after a second. Derek stepped in front of Stiles and extracted a claw. 

Stiles was looking at him with what could only be hurt and… betrayal. Derek swallowed hard and tried to ignore that. He touched his claw against pale skin and leaned in close.

“Stiles,”  _ let me get you out of here,  _ “what did you take from my family’s mansion?”

Stiles’s eyes widened a fraction. Derek silently willed him to play along and for a moment, Stiles didn’t say a word. Derek’s stomach started to sink until the boy wet his lips nervously. “A ring.”

“A ring?”

“Your mother’s ring.”

Deucalion made a noise that could have only been a soft chuckle. Derek ground his teeth together and tried to smother his anger at that, focusing on Stiles instead. Stiles. The idiot who didn’t know when to stop. “And where is it now?”

Once more, Stiles looked confused. But he didn’t hesitate this time. “I don’t have it anymore.”

“No?”

“No,” Stiles said. “It’s somewhere else too. And I won’t say where.”

“You’re a Spark,” Derek said, changing the subject. “Or at least something of one. You used wards when I was chasing you and I know you have mountain ash.”

Stiles squinted. This time, he didn’t say a word. Standing off to the side, Kali narrowed her eyes and tapped a finger against her leg impatiently. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Not much,” Derek said. “But I have no doubts this idiot carries a lot of things on his person. Especially after our last encounter.”

Sudden realization dawned in Stiles’s eyes. Derek’s breaths stalled as the boy’s fingers stretched for his pocket.

“You’re not getting anything,” Kali snarled, stepping toward him. Derek shot her a warning growl, flashing his blue eyes, but she only flashed her red ones and laughed. Deucalion didn’t seem inclined to do anything but watch in amusement. Alarm itched underneath Derek’s skin.

Stiles took that moment to rip a bag of mountain ash from his pocket and dig a hand into it. Ennis snarled as the boy threw a handful of the stuff into the air, muttering something under his breath. His eyes flashed golden and Derek managed to turn away just in time.

The other werewolves howled, stumbling away. Reaching out blindly, Derek caught Stiles’s arm and yanked him toward the door. He heard Deucalion’s angry roar only a second before they were racing down the hotel hallway.

The guy at the front desk looked surprised as they raced by. Derek thought he heard  _ ‘how did the proposal go?’  _ but then they were bursting out into the morning light and Derek was yanking Stiles toward his Camaro, even as the idiot tried to squirm away.

“My jeep!” Stiles said, trying to move in the other direction. “I’m not leaving my jeep!”

“I’ll send a tow truck for your damn deep,” Derek said, yanking the passenger door of the Camaro open and shoving Stiles inside. He closed it before Stiles could protest and climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the car right as a red-eyed Ennis came into view.

Throwing the car into reverse, Derek hit the gas. He didn’t look back as they did a one-eighty and he pulled onto the highway, narrowingly avoiding an approaching car. Stiles swore and yanked the seatbelt across his chest.

It was much different from the first time they’d been in the Camaro together.

“Dude, you’re gonna get us killed!” Stiles said, sounding panicked. “I swear to god, if I die in a car accident due to a suicidal werewolf, I’m going to be pissed!”

“I’m not the one nearly getting us killed,” Derek growled, shooting him a dark look. “What the hell, Stiles? You went after Deucalion that night too?”

“He was at your stupid party,” Stiles said, looking like a kicked puppy. “I had a chance.”

“A chance to set all the werewolves in Beacon Hills on your tail?”

“Wait, are there  _ more?” _

Derek ground his teeth together and fixed his eyes back on the road. He couldn’t believe he’d gone from chasing Stiles across the state to this. He was actually harboring this thieving idiot.

Derek didn’t know why he cared. He really shouldn’t.

But Deucalion wasn’t a forgiving man. Derek didn’t want to know what might’ve happened in that hotel room if he hadn’t shown up.

“Why,” he said after a moment. “Why do you do it? Is it for the rush? The power? Are you bored?”

Stiles clenched his jaw and didn’t answer. Derek rolled his eyes.

“I could drop you off on the side of the road, you know.”

“Then do it.”

Derek could. He didn’t and he knew he wouldn’t, but he could. Instead, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it over to Stiles. “The passcode is four ones. Call Laura and put her on speaker.”

“What?” 

“Call Laura,” Derek said, flashing his eyes to blue. “Or I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth.”

“No, that’s not what I’m asking about. Dude, your passcode is four ones? Seriously? That’s like, the easiest code to crack in the book.”

Derek gave him a look of death and Stiles gulped, unlocking the phone and scrolling through Derek’s list of contacts. He laughed suddenly and Derek glanced over, catching Stiles eyeing the name he’d made his sister’s number.

“LaurLaur, really? Dude, you’re a total sap.”

“Shut up,” Derek said, facing the road again. He tried to ignore the way his face had heated up, or how Stiles was still chuckling to himself as he clicked her number. The phone rang for a few seconds and then Laura’s voice came through, sounding as tired as the last time Derek had called.

“Der, please tell me you’ve found the kid and he hasn’t stolen something else yet. Like your kidney.”

Stiles laughed aloud at that. Derek’s face turned hot and Laura’s voice came through the phone again, sounding excited this time.

“Is that him? Oh my god, is that you, Stiles? Thief Stiles?”

“Aww, Der,” Stiles said, looking absolutely delighted. “You told your sister about me? I’m flattered.”

“Not as flattered as you’ll be if I run you over with the car,” Derek said, teeth gnashing together. Stiles only laughed again and Derek could hear Laura laughing too.

“You, Stiles,” she said. “Have been a pain in my brother’s ass for three days now. I’m almost a little impressed.”

“If I’d known that, I might have surrendered willingly,” Stiles said, grinning ear to ear. Derek growled and snatched the phone from the boy’s hand, driving with one hand despite Stiles’s sudden protests. Turning it off speaker, he brought the phone to his ear.

“Laura, you’re not allowed to like him. He’s an idiot.”

“He sounds quite charming to me,” Laura said, laughter still in her voice. “And it sounds like your blushing, Der. Are you blushing?”

“Shut up,” Derek said. “Your ‘charming’ idot robbed Deucalion and now his pack of Alphas are on our tail.”

Laura instantly went silent. Stiles had gone quiet too and sat still in the seat next to Derek. His face was pale again and all signs of amusement were gone.

“We’re on the road now,” Derek said. “But Deucalion knows I helped him. I had to… improvise things.”

“You’re coming home though?”

“Is that okay?”

“Of course, it’s okay,” Laura said, not a hint of hesitation to her voice. “Come home, Derek, I’ll get in contact with Peter.”

“You don’t think they’ll react, do you?”

“The Alpha pack isn’t one you cross, Der,” Laura said. “They’ll react. But Cora should be fine since she’s a few countries away and I’ll make sure Peter comes around. Try and see if you can figure out what Stiles did and if he can fix it. And don’t let him out of your sight.”

“You still want me to bring him back?”

Stiles had gone tense at that. Even if he didn’t want to show it, Derek could see the anxiety written across his face. The boy tapped nervous fingers against his leg.

“Don’t you dare leave him anywhere,” Laura said. “Unless you want Deucalion and his pack to rip him apart. I don’t care what kind of idiot he is, you bring him home.”

Derek swallowed. “Okay.”

“Did you get mom’s ring?”

“It’s safe.”

Laura sighed at that. It was one of relief and even though they were miles away, Derek could feel that relaxing him too. His Alpha wasn’t panicking and Derek wasn’t going to either. No matter what shit had happened in less than three days. “Good, Der. Come home and stay safe.”

“We’ll be fine,” Derek said. Laura hung up and Derek lowered the phone slowly, eyes still fixed on the road. Stiles gave him a nervous look.

“So are we still going with the ‘leave Stiles for the hungry Alphas’’ option? Cause if so, I’d like to make a few goodbye calls first.”

“Shut up,” Derek said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m seriously not sure if that’s comforting or not, Sourwolf.”

Derek rolled his eyes but he could smell the relief radiating off of the boy, as well as a soft sense of gratitude. That shouldn’t have made his stomach knot like it did, shaking his head and trying to focus on the road again. Stiles might not be a pain in his side right now, but he was still a thief. He was still the reason Derek was out here in the first place.

But Derek still couldn’t help remembering the boy from the party. The one in the fox mask that had flirted and laughed, and made Derek feel warmer than he had in a while. Derek couldn’t help but wonder if that boy was real; or he’d just been a mask too.

Some part of him hoped not. And some part of him hoped so. It’d make things easier, after all.

What things, Derek wasn't sure. And that bothered him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang, it's been what... a month? Two? But here we are, an update finally! Of course, I love hearing what you guys have to say and the support makes my day. Make sure you all are staying safe!
> 
> Come scream at me on Tumblr!
> 
> [tumblr dumpser](https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, you guys are my inspiration <3 I hope your all doing well during this time! Also, hang with me on Tumblr or something, cause you're all amazing
> 
> [ https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com](https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com)


End file.
